Oh, We Gotta Turn Up The Crazy
by Redonkgirl99
Summary: Cynthia Wayne has had seven datemates in her life; Simon Vang, Nadine Hoffman, Casper Moffett, Lexi Braddock, Brice Williamson. Gwen Vass, and Marco Gibb. She dated each one because they excited her, and broke up with each one because they eventually bored her. But, after her parents murder, maybe she can find someone that would never, ever bore her.
1. A Shot In the Dark

Thirty-Six Pom-Poms shook in the air.

"Alright, girls, water break."

As a blonde girl took a swig from her water bottle, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"You coming tonight or what?" A brunette girl asked, a teasing smile accompanying her question.

"Sorry, my parents are making me go to a play with them."

The brunette scoffed, drinking from her own water bottle.

"Lame."

"Yeah, yeah, you know how they get."

"Crazy?" The brunette asked, the blonde rolled her eyes and smiled.

" _Sentimental."_

"Crazily sentimental," The brunette said.

The blonde gave her a look.

"I'm fairly certain if we ever met a crazy person we would know."

"When would _we_ ever meet a bona fide crazy person?"

"You never know," The blonde said, looking out the window at the rainy city.

"This is Gotham, after all."

The brunette snorted, walking back to the gym mat, but giving the blonde a look over her shoulder.

"I think _you're_ the sentimental one, Cynthia."

Cynthia Wayne smiled.

"Or maybe I'm the crazy one."

And the sound of rain was drowned out for a moment by the laughter of the brunette girl.

.

As Cynthia prepared to leave, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Hey, Cynthia!"

"Oh, hey, Matthew."

"So, I was wondering if you'd go to Carly's party with me tonight."

And Cynthia found herself thankful she wasn't going at all.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to see a play with my parents tonight."

"How about a movie on Saturday?" Matthew asked.

"Um, I don't know, I'll have to see," Cynthia said, biting her lip "I'll call you later and let you know."

"Yeah, okay," Matthew said, smiling and walking off.

"So, have a date?" the brunette, Carly, asked.

"You know I don't," Cynthia replied, slightly sour.

"Why not?" Carly asked.

"You know why; he just… He just doesn't do it for me."

"If Matthew doesn't do it for you, then you need to see a doctor," Carly said, making Cynthia snort.

.

"How was practice, Miss Cynthia?"

"Not bad, Alfred," She said as she slid into the car.

"All your routines go well?"

"Near perfect," Cynthia said, laughing slightly "It was kind of boring, actually."

"Nothing wrong with a little monotony, Miss Cynthia," Alfred replied, Cynthia's smile slipping away before she spoke under her breath, Alfred unable to hear her.

"Not just a little."

.

"Cynthia?!"

"Yes, Mother?!"

"Come up to your room!"

Cynthia hopped up the stairs and rounded into her room, her mother smiling at her.

"What do you think?"

Cynthia reached out and touched the material of the black dress her mother was offering to her.

"It's really pretty, Mom, thank you."

"Only the best for my daughter," Mrs. Wayne teased.

.

The elite of the city were in a special room during intermission, Cynthia sipping on her sparkling water as her Mother and Father spoke to some Wayne Enterprise affiliate.

As Mrs. Wayne complimented her on her earrings, Cynthia's ears picked up on something else.

"No _way_ are those real."

Cynthia's mouth dried as she heard those men, both in their late 40's, speaking a little bit away.

"Why would Thomas Wayne let his daughter get her breasts done?"

"I don't know… How old is she again?"

"Sixteen."

"I don't know if two years is worth the wait."

"She's a cheerleader, too, you know: probably flexible."

"I'm going to the restroom," Cynthia muttered, unable to take another second.

.

The encounter wasn't forgotten, but it wasn't at the forefront of her mind as her and her family walked home.

"The acting was fine, the music was lovely," Her mother said. "What about you two?"

"It was alright," Cynthia shrugged slightly.

"Sorry, Mom, I agree with Dad; it was kinda lame," Bruce said, laughing.

"'Kinda lame'? There's no such word as 'kinda.' It was totally lame," Her father said, making the others laugh as Cynthia grinned.

"You two, so judgment-."

"What's up, folks?!"

Cynthia felt her breath be stolen away as her mother pulled her close, all four of the Waynes staring wide eyed at the masked man pointing a gun at them.

"Stay calm, Bruce, Cynthia," Her Father said, not taking his eyes off the man with the gun.

"Give me your money!"

"No problem," Her Father said calmly, handing over his wallet "We're cooperating."

The man then pointed a gun at her Mother, her Father stepping in front of her and Bruce.

"The necklace," The man demanded, which her mother took off with shaking hands before wrapping her arms around the two of them again.

"Easy," Her Father said.

Right before the man shot him.

And then shot her Mother.

As the man turned his gun on them, Cynthia pulled her little brother close, both of them shaking and waiting for what would come.

The man lowered the gun.

And ran away.

Bruce immediately kneeled down to shake their Father and Mother.

Nothing.

As Bruce dropped to his knees and let out a scream, Cynthia was frozen.

What now?


	2. Seven

Cynthia Wayne has had seven datemates in her life.

Simon Vang.

Nadine Hoffman.

Casper Moffett.

Lexi Braddock.

Brice Williamson.

Gwen Vass.

Marco Gibb.

Simon was in her science class in the eighth grade and had been her first boyfriend, and she really didn't count him that much; she'd dumped him after a week. The only reason she'd dated him in the first place was because Carly had a boyfriend and Simon had asked her out. She didn't even find him that attractive.

So, she figured, maybe she didn't like boys.

Nadine was a part of the year book club and was overall a sweetheart, so, Cynthia decided to give it a shot. She broke up with her after two weeks; still not very attracted to her.

So, she figured, she just didn't get attracted to people, and went on with her life.

Then, in the ninth grade, she met a boy named Casper, and _damn_. She'd been wrong about that no attraction thing; she'd just had never met her type.

It wasn't that Casper looked that different from the other boys, if anything, he was kinda sleazy; pinched features and slicked back hair. But that's not what excited her; it was that he was _exciting_. He put cherry bombs in the teacher's bathroom and he graffitied the school. And when Casper found out that Cynthia Wayne, cheerleader with double Ds, was interested in him, he willingly took her on his escapades. It was fun for a while, but, Casper got repetitive and he was too scared to do much more than a little vandalism, so she dumped him after a month.

Then, a month later, she met Lexi Braddock. She'd been waiting for Alfred to pick her up when she noticed that some of her male classmates were catcalling a passing woman. The woman gave them a hard look before pulling out her keys, and scratching FUCK U in their Rolls Royce. The woman must've heard Cynthia's raucous laughter, because she grinned and sat down on the bench beside her. As it would turn out, the seventeen year old Lexi was a bartender. Lexi would let Cynthia come sit in the bar and would give her enough alcohol so she was _just_ under the limit. It was fun, for a while, but Cynthia got bored of sitting around all the time and would break up with her after a month and a half.

Next was Brice Williamson, not two weeks after her break up with Lexi. Cynthia actually _met_ him outside of Lexi's bar while they were still dating, but, when he found out she'd broken it off with Lexi, he started hanging outside her school. Besides, rich kids were pretty reliable when it came to buying marijuana. Brice hooked her up with some pretty good stuff, but all he wanted to do was hang around and smoke all day, and that bored Cynthia fast, so she broke it off after three weeks.

Then came Gwen Vass, or, as she was known onstage; Cashmere. Cynthia met Gwen when she was abounded by her friends on Halloween and ran into Gwen, who let her use the phone in the club. Cynthia would hang out in the back room of the club and watch the dancers. They all liked her; they honestly weren't that much older than her, some of them _weren't_ older than her. Even the owner liked her; although she always got the vibe he wanted her for some lesbian double act with Gwen. He even went so far to give her a stage name if she ever felt so inclined to join them. Most nights, the dancers who were on break would show her makeup tricks and teach her the best ways to scam horny men out of their money without even doing much. But, after four months and a loss of virginity in the back room, Cynthia broke up with Gwen; even strip clubs could become boring.

With her latest datemate, she returned to dating people at school when a boy name Marco Gibb transferred. At first, it seemed like every other relationship she had, a somewhat rough person that excited her. They ran around and had fun for two weeks, and then things got weird. Marco got _clingy_. Not, _normal_ clingy, either, _really_ clingy. He just wanted to spend all of his time with her, preferably at home. So, she dumped him. But, unlike the rest of her relationships; that wasn't the end of it.

Because Marco Gibb decided to bring a gun to school.

He stomped right into her classroom, shot her teacher and the next thing Cynthia knew, she was looking down the barrel of a rifle as Marco went on and on about he loved her more than life. She had a little bit of time to realize that this was the type of story she saw on the news, and that these stories always ended one way; unless she could change it.

"I would rather that you were dead than for you to be with someone else."

Looking back on it, there was a much different way she could've handled it; a way that was more likely to end in her favor, yet, she didn't think of that one.

"Marco, I am _never_ going to want you."

Marco shut up as Cynthia spoke, her tone cold and mocking.

"So, go ahead, kill me, but I want you to know that I'm _never_ going to want you. Killing me won't change that. Might was well put bullet in your mouth than put one in mine, Marco, because you're _nothing_ to me. You're nothing to _everyone_. You would be better off _dead._ "

Marco looked at her wide eyed before he slowly turned the rifle to face himself.

And, well, Cynthia knew she would never be able to live with herself if he actually killed himself. So, right before he pulled the trigger, she nudged the gun. It still got him, just didn't kill him.

Thankfully, soon after the police showed up and everything was a blur.

Marco ended up being diagnosed with Histrionic Personality Disorder and was put into a mental hospital.

But, Cynthia was never able to shake the memory of that moment. It never lost its power.

Its power of making her feel _incredible_.

She wanted nothing more than to feel that way again.

The adrenaline.

The feeling of power she'd held over life and death.

She could have let him kill himself, but she chose not to.

"Off the record, Missy, but ya shoulda let him go through with it," A police officer had told her later.

"I couldn't; I'm not a killer."

No.

Not yet.


	3. You'll Thank Me Later

James Gordon was new; saying he could find her parents' killer. Even Cynthia knew that was nearly impossible. But, he was okay, he was nice to them.

Bruce was halfway obsessed with finding their parents' killer, not realizing that it would most likely never happen. But, in his search, he made friends with a girl named Selina or Cat, as most called her.

The funeral had been okay; a bunch of people from Wayne Enterprises had come and promised her that her parents company would be there when she turned eighteen. The lawyers had confirmed that she was the heir to the Wayne fortune and to Wayne Enterprises, a fact that quite a few of the board members had tried to dispute; using every possible excuse except for the one the one they were all thinking; she was a girl.

She hadn't gone to school for a few weeks, but soon returned; if she was going to prove them wrong about her capability, she would have to work hard.

Honestly, she didn't even _want_ to be in charge of Wayne Enterprises; it sounded really boring. But, she was the one in charge in securing her parents legacy, and she supposed she owed them that.

At school everyone either scurried around her or, like Carly, was _way_ too doting on her; bringing her extra desert and trying to get her to take it easy.

But, friends move on faster and soon Carly was back on her case about dating Matthew.

Finally, Cynthia got so annoyed she snapped.

"My parents were murdered three months ago."

She backed off after that, and honestly, Cynthia had thought she'd given up.

.

"Hey, Cynthia!"

"What?" Cynthia asked, stretching out.

"The circus is coming into town this weekend."

"So?"

"So, we should go! I'll get the tickets and everything."

Cynthia sighed, giving Carly a look.

"The circus?"

"It'll be fun," Carly said.

"Fine," Cynthia said with small smile; she needed to get back into the world anyway.

.

Alfred had dropped her off at Carly's house, delighted she was hanging out with friends.

"Hey," Cynthia said, smiling slightly once Carly had opened the door.

"Oh, hey," Carly said, frowning.

"What?" Cynthia asked.

"You're going to wear that?" Carly asked, letting her in.

"We're going to a circus, Carly, it's not a Benefit," Cynthia said, smiling but her eyebrows pulling together.

"Not even makeup?"

"Circus," Cynthia repeated, her smile slipping away.

"Let me put some mascara on you," Carly said, tugging Cynthia to her room.

.

"Why're you being so weird?" Cynthia asked, as she and Carly got out of the car.

"No reason," Carly said "Come on."

Cynthia allowed Carly to pull her along, but stopped short.

Her eyes falling on the two familiar boys with their backs to her.

"Is this a double date?" Cynthia hissed, turning to Carly.

"You'll thank me later," Carly hissed back before speaking up "Hey, Michael, Matthew!"

.

This was awful.

It was half way through the show and Cynthia wanted to die.

About a quarter in, Matthew had wrapped his arm around her shoulders and was now leaning like he wanted her to kiss him.

No thank you.

.

Carly was quite possibly the worst friend on the planet; she'd somehow fumbled it around and now Matthew was driving Cynthia home.

"So, tonight was pretty fun," Matthew started, Cynthia groaning internally.

"Yeah."

"Do you wanna do this again?" Matthew asked, Cynthia steeling herself and turning to him.

"Matthew, you're a really nice guy, but I just don't see us like that."

Matthew turned to face her as well.

"What?"

"I'm saying no, Matthew," Cynthia said.

"Why?" Matthew demanded.

"I'm just not interested, Matthew, that's reason enough," Cynthia said, starting to get annoyed.

"You're not interested in me," He laughed without humor "But, you'll screw around with everyone else."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Cynthia said.

"Everybody knows your goddamn whore, Cynthia; screwing around with people before dropping them."

"I've had seven; you've had twelve; who's the real whore in this situation?" Cynthia asked sarcastically, Matthew glaring at her.

"You're parents would be ashamed of you."

It was quiet for a long moment.

"You're right, they would be…" Cynthia said, looking at her feet "But, do you know what they _are_?"

It was quiet as Cynthia lifted her head.

"Not here."

"So, I'm going to continue being me. And, sure, that's being a slut who lost her virginity in the back room of a strip club, but, no matter how slutty I get, I will _never_ fuck you."

Matthew looked at her with wide eyes as she turned to leave, but, he grabbed her arm and wrenched her back. And Cynthia's instincts kicked in.

Cynthia shook her hand as she looked down at where she'd knocked Matthew out cold.

"Huh."

Cynthia twirled around to see a boy around her age approaching, looking down at Matthew, he stopped beside her and looked over.

"Did ya kill him?"

"I don't think I could've killed him with a punch," Cynthia replied, wondering why her heart was beating faster.

"Hm," He said with a little shrug "Too bad."

Oh, _oh_.

All of the red flags she'd been taught were going off at once and _damn_ was she feeling hot.

He turned to leave, which upset her slightly; she hadn't felt this attracted to someone in _ages_.

"Wait! Do you know where I can get a cab?" She called, the man turning on his heel.

"You're the one who lives here," He said, before sighing almost comically over the top "But, I _suppose_ I can walk you to the road."

"Thanks, um, I'm Cynthia," She said following after him.

"Jerome," He said "And I'm quite shocked that sweet little Cynthia Wayne is not so innocent at all."

"Were you _eavesdropping_?" Cynthia asked, slightly outraged.

"You _were_ yelling, Sweetheart," Jerome said "But, that wasn't what I was talkin' about anyway."

"What're you talking about?" Cynthia asked.

"When someone says too bad about someone being alive, a normal person runs in the other direction," Jerome said "And you did leave your boyfriend in the middle of the parking lot. So, what's _your_ deal?"

"If you heard our conversation, you would know that he's not my boyfriend," Cynthia countered.

"You didn't answer my question," Jerome said in a sing-song voice.

"I don't know, okay?!" She said, almost yelling "I don't know what's wrong with me!"

"So there _is_ something with you; you could've chalked it all up to being scared. I've used that one before," Jerome said, before seeming to realize something and look over in excitement "Did _you_ kill your parents?"

" _No!"_ Cynthia said with wide eyes.

"I won't tell if you did," Jerome said "I mean, I've thought about it often enough."

Cynthia _really_ hoped that if Jerome could see her red face, he would think it was because of anger.

What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she like nice guys? Or at the very least guys like Matthew?

"Fine then; what's _your_ deal?"

" _My_ deal, Honeybunch?" He said, overly innocent as he placed a hand on his chest "I don't know what you're talking about."

"No, I think you do," Cynthia said.

A grin spread across Jerome's face and _ho-ly shit_.

There was something _wrong_ with this boy.

Hopefully, he thought that sharp intake of breath was out of fear.

"I like you," He said, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"You saw me knock a guy out for grabbing me and here you are; flirting with me," Cynthia said.

"I admitted to wanting to kill my mother and here _you_ are; turned on," Jerome smiled "Match made in heaven, I'd say."

 _Crap!_

It was quiet for a long moment.

"Heaven's got nothing to do with it," Cynthia said, before laughing as Jerome smiled wider.

Jerome's smile slipped away and Cynthia felt her heart stutter.

"What?"

"You've got a gorgeous laugh."


	4. Paperback Romance

"What happened?"

Cynthia shoved past Carly, the brunette frowning before following after her.

"Matthew has a black eye!"

Carly caught up with her and grabbed her arm, Cynthia wrenching it away but spinning around to face her.

"Why couldn't you just respect what I wanted?" Cynthia demanded.

"What?"

"I told you I didn't want to go on a date with him, but you tricked me into it. That's not what friends _do_."

"I just wanted you to be happy."

"What makes you happy and what makes me happy are two different things, Carly," Cynthia said, turning to walk away, but Carly caught her arm again. Cynthia shoved her away "Stay away from me."

.

Cynthia sat at math, focusing on the teacher rather than paying attention to how everyone was shooting her looks. Or how Carly's seat was empty.

Cynthia's eyes drifted to the window and they caught on something red.

 _Jerome_.

He was standing against the building opposite of the school, smoking a cigarette.

"Mz. Sinclair?" Cynthia asked, the teacher nodding "I have an awful headache, can I…?"

Sinclair nodded and Cynthia left, headed off towards the school nurse.

The problem was that there were guards posted outside the doors ever since the Marco incident and Cynthia wouldn't be able to get out that way.

So, she would have to improvise.

Out the second story window, down the bricks, and over the wall.

And not even a scratch.

She crossed the street, keeping her head down slightly, before she reached Jerome, who was smirking.

"Are you following me?"

"You're the one who came out to see me," Jerome replied.

"You're the one standing outside my school," Cynthia countered.

"Good point," Jerome allowed "So, Cynthia, do you wanna get outta here?"

He emphasized the beginning of her name when he said it, Cynthia noticed idly, and he was running his eyes over her like she was prey.

"I'm not walking around Gotham in a private school uniform. I'm not an idiot."

"God, you're such a buzz kill," Jerome said dramatically.

"You and I both know that's not true… I know somewhere we can go," Cynthia said with a smile, pulling out her phone.

.

Cynthia entered the apartment the moment the door was opened.

"Hey, Brice," Cynthia said offhandedly, Jerome following behind her with an amused smile.

"Hi, Cynthia," Brice said somewhat nervously "I'm really happy you called, wh-who's this guy?"

"Jerome," She said with a small flap of her hand "Anyway, I need to use your fire escape."

"M-My fire escape?" Brice asked, Cynthia nodding before pointing at his bedroom "Um, yep, in there. Listen, Cynthia."

Brice continued to talk as Cynthia and Jerome headed into his bedroom, Cynthia grabbing a bag of gummy worms he had as they walked.

"I've stopped dealing and smoking; knew that it annoyed you. I've got an actual job now; working at the corner shop. I've been trying to clean up my act, Cynthia."

"Good for you," Cynthia said distractedly as she opened his bedroom window and climbed onto the fire escape. Jerome followed after her and as Brice approached the window; she closed it.

"C'mon," She told Jerome, hopping up the steps and jumping up to the roof.

One side of the building looked out at nothing, really, but the _other_ side.

You could see all of Gotham.

"Used to come up here when Brice was high and didn't want to do anything; probably the reason I stayed with him for so long." She sat down on the side of the roof, her legs dangling over the edge.

"How long were you with _him?"_ Jerome asked derogatorily as he sat beside her.

"Oh, about three weeks," Cynthia said with a shrug "I get bored fast."

"Trust me, Sweetheart, you won't get bored with me," Jerome said, reaching out and pushing her hair back, running his fingers over her neck in the process.

"But, you won't be here long, will you?" Cynthia asked.

"No, but the circus will come back in a year," Jerome said.

"I'm not going to wait for you like some paperback romance, Jerome; I've only known you a day," Cynthia said, leaning in as Jerome grinned.

"Then I'd better make the most of the time I've got with ya," Jerome said.

Before pulling Cynthia into a nearly painful kiss.

Jerome liked to kiss hard, that much was certain, and with lots of teeth.

But, Cynthia was okay with that; she liked to kiss hard too.

Cynthia could feel Jerome smile as she kissed back.

After a moment they broke apart, Cynthia catching her breath as Jerome ran his hands up and down her sides before moving to lift her skirt up. Cynthia leaned in and Jerome paused.

"I think I'm going to use this as incentive for you to find me the next time around."

She pushed his hand off her thigh, Jerome grinning.

"I thought you weren't going to wait for me."

"I'm not going to, but that doesn't mean I don't want you."

"Then, I'd like to formally ask you out on a date; one year from now," Jerome said, over the top.

"There's a place called Hotel Belle Monico, I'll pay, just come."

"Trust me, Dollface, I'll definitely be coming."

.

"I'm not going to see you again," Cynthia said, melancholy as they stood outside her school.

"Not this time around, Babydoll," Jerome said.

"Alright."

"Aww, don't be said; _smile_."

The way he said it was ever so slightly threatening and Cynthia was rethinking not having sex with him as she smiled.

Jerome pulled her up for another kiss, Cynthia wrapping her arms around his neck as they kissed for the last time this year.

"See ya around, Dollface."

"Bye, Jerome."

As the redhead walked away, Cynthia leaned against the wall; facing the other way.

What _neither_ of them saw was Matthew; who'd seen the entire exchange.

.

Cynthia had been on lock down after she cut class; not like she would've gone anywhere anyway, she was done with Carly.

"Reading the funnies?" Cynthia asked her brother, both of them sitting in their father's study.

"Finished with the front page. Would you like it?" Bruce asked, offering his sister the paper, which she took.

Thankfully, Bruce was too invested in what he was reading to see her freeze.

 **MURDER UNDER THE BIG TOP: SNAKE DANCER FOUND DEAD.**


	5. Two In Arkham

Cynthia sighed as she stood across from the GCPD, waiting for a victim.

Finally, a cop exited the building; late thirties, a little dumpy, greasy looking, and balding.

Perfect.

"Excuse me, sir?" Cynthia said, well aware of how her breasts bounced as she ran across the street and how her private school uniform skirt was hiked almost obscenely high.

"Um, yes, miss?"

"Hi, I work for the school paper and the editor said he'd cut me if I didn't have a really interesting story for this week's edition, and the deadline is tomorrow, and the paper is my _favorite,_ so if there is anything interesting you could tell me, I would be _sooo_ grateful."

Cynthia chewed on her lip and looked up at him with wide doe eyes, not breaking even as his eyes raked over her and he began to leer.

"Well, hun, I don't know, I'm not supposed to tell anyone about this…"

" _Please?"_

"What the hell, you're cute. You know that snake dancer that got gutted?"

"Uh huh," Cynthia said, beginning to scribble on her notepad.

"Caught her killer just now," He said, Cynthia's eyes widening, not even acting.

"Yeah?"

"It was her _son_."

Cynthia gasped slightly; only partially acting.

"Her _son?"_

"Uh huh, once we caught him, apparently he broke down or something. Started smiling and cackling like a loon; said he did it because she kept nagging him."

"That's horrible," Cynthia said.

"Ain't it? Anyway, I gotta patrol. See ya around."

"Thank you again, Sir."

As he entered his squad car, Cynthia turned the other way.

 _"Shit."_

This presented so many problems.

What if he told?

Of course, people would write him off as crazy, but she already had one ex-boyfriend in Arkham; she couldn't afford people to know she had another.

She needed a drink.

Cynthia started off towards Lexi's bar; maybe she'd serve her, when a hand grabbed her arm.

"Waiting for your boyfriend?"

Cynthia nearly squealed as she got pulled into an alley.

"Matthew!"

He pushed her up against a wall.

"You know, when I saw you trading spit with that ginger nightmare, I just got pissed. But, _now."_

"Now what, asshole?"

"I don't think you'd appreciate it if I told your butler about how I saw you and a sociopath making out."

Cynthia sighed.

"Let me guess; in return for your silence, you get to fuck me."

"And date you; I like the idea of the Wayne fortune."

"No one will believe you."

"You already have one in Arkham; why wouldn't you have another?"

Cynthia realized what she had to do.

"Yeah, I have two ex-boyfriends in Arkham. That really begs the question; do I pick them because they're crazy, or are they crazy because I pick them."

"What?" Matthew said, frowning.

"Think about it, I broke up with Marco and he went off the deep end; shot up the school. Who's to say Jerome didn't off his mommy so he could stay in Gotham? Hell, maybe I told him to." Cynthia cocked her head, her voice becoming higher pitched and mocking "Would you like that Matthew? Wanna have your blood on your hands? Your little sister's?"

"You _bitch."_

Matthew raised his hand to hit her when…

"Hey!" A blonde woman stalked towards them "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Matthew backed away, but he remained mad.

"Stay away from her," Matthew said "She's crazy. She's goddamn _poison."_

"Screw off," The blonde woman said, grabbing Cynthia's shoulders and pulling her close.

Matthew stumbled off and the blonde woman put her hands on Cynthia's shoulders.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you," She said.

"Can I give you a ride somewhere?" She asked.

"Um, yeah, actually."

.

"Wayne Manor, right?"

Cynthia looked over from the passenger seat, slightly surprised as the blonde smiled.

"I've seen you around; I'm Barbara Kean."

"Nice to meet you… Were you going somewhere?"

"No, why do you ask?" Barbara asked, frowning.

"You're dressed nice," Cynthia pointed out.

Barbara swallowed hard.

"No, I'm not going anywhere."

"It seems like you've been having a bad day."

"And you're not?" Barbara pointed out, Cynthia chuckling without humor.

"Third worst day of my life, I'd say."

"What was his deal with you anyway?" Barbara asked.

"Wouldn't date him," Cynthia replied.

"Asshole," Barbara muttered, Cynthia laughing with humor this time.

.

"Can you drop me here? Alfred thinks I'm at a friend's house and he might get suspicious if he sees you," Cynthia said "Thanks for the ride."

"Wait, why were you by the precinct?" Barbara asked.

Cynthia paused, a hand on the door. She looked into the distance with a small smile.

"See ya around, Barbara."

And she shut the door.

.

A few weeks later found Cynthia sitting in her father's study, behind the desk, reading the newspaper. She heard movement and folded the paper in half, looking over it at the man around Alfred's age.

"Who're you?"

He looked up at her as if he was surprised she was there.

"Reginald Payne, most call me Reggie; I'm a friend of your butler and your brother said I could stay."

"Of course he did," Cynthia said under her breath, throwing the paper on the desk.

"Gruesome stuff for a lass like yourself," Reggie said, looking at the paper.

"I think I can handle it," Cynthia replied.

"I'd think that you wouldn't like to read about a matricide."

"I live in Gotham; if you can't stomach a murder, then you won't last long. Besides," Cynthia said, her tone filled with disdainful sarcasm "This is a success story; he's in Arkham now."

"You're an ornery thing, aren't ya?"

"Don't call me a thing," Cynthia said, worrisomely calm as she stood "You're in my house, Mr. Payne; don't test me."

"You're a rich brat; yeah, your parents are dead, and that's right brutal. But, you'll bounce back, and you'll never be in danger. You'll never have to look down a barrel of gun wondering if you and your best mates will make it."

Cynthia crossed the room so she was standing about a foot away from Reggie.

"I already have. And you know what happened? I talked. I talked and he shot himself." Cynthia took a step forward "I am the heir of a company that is worth 1.45 billion dollars and two of my ex-boyfriends are in Arkham. _Don't test me_."

Cynthia turned on her heel and returned to the desk, picking up the paper and resuming her reading.

"You've been excused, Mr. Payne."

.

Cynthia stood stiffly beside Alfred's hospital bed, the same thought coming to her over and over.

 _You should've killed him when you had the chance._

.

Cynthia splashed her face with water, trying to figure out her next move; Alfred hadn't told Gordon who'd stabbed him since he'd wanted to deal with it himself. She could go looking for him, but she had _no_ clue where to start.

Alfred was back from the hospital and kept insisting on finding Payne, even though, as both of the Waynes pointed out, he was still healing.

Bruce had left a while ago and Cynthia had a feeling he was looking for him, but she doubted he'd find him.

She supposed the best thing she could do was wait.

Cynthia hated waiting.

She missed Jerome.

.

Bruce would return hours later, seeming a bit out of it, but Cynthia respected his privacy and stayed out of it.

.

"Jim!" Harvey called, Jim sighing and turning.

"What is it?"

Harvey gave him a look that made Jim's insides freeze.

"You're gonna wanna take a look at this."

.

Alfred opened the door and paused.

"Detective Gordon, Detective Bullock, what brings you two out here?"

Alfred took in their pained faces.

"Can you get Cynthia?"

Alfred nodded, turning and getting Cynthia from her room.

"What's wrong, Detective?"

"I'm _truly_ sorry, Cynthia," Jim said, taking a pained breath before he spoke again, grabbing Cynthia and beginning to cuff her.

"Cynthia Wayne, you're under arrest for the murder of Reginald Payne."


	6. Plea

She hadn't killed Reginald Payne.

But, someone was trying to make it look that way.

Someone who had access to her DNA and the means to plant it on his body.

Someone who would benefit from her being incarcerated.

"Cynthia."

Cynthia looked up at Jim Gordon, who was watching her with worried eyes.

"Where were you last night?"

"I was at home."

"Anyone that can attest to that?"

"Alfred."

"Alfred is still recovering from a stab wound; he's on some pretty heavy medication. Bruce?"

"Bruce wasn't home."

And slowly the cogs began to turn.

It was quiet as Jim sighed, rubbing his face.

"Cynthia, I want to help you, but the DA will be here any minute and I need to know the truth; did you kill Payne?"

"No, I didn't."

Jim nodded slowly.

"I'll find you a lawyer."

.

"Miss Wayne, do you know the meaning of a plea deal?"

"Please don't patronize my client, Mr. Hardell."

Cynthia's lip twitched; she liked the lawyer Jim had brought for her.

"Not at all, Mr. Dent, I'm just making sure Miss Wayne understands what I'm about to propose to her."

"What are you about to propose?" Cynthia asked.

"If you plead guilty to the murder of Reginald Payne, instead of being sent to prison for, most likely, life, you'll spend the time it takes to get better in Arkham Asylum. Once you're declared fit to reenter society, you'd return."

"Absolutely not; these accusations being made against my client are slanderous," Dent started.

"May I speak with my lawyer alone?" Cynthia asked.

"Of course."

Hardell left and Cynthia turned to Dent.

"No way are you taking the deal; I'll get these charges thrown out, Miss Wayne, I promise."

"I'm going to take it."

Dent recoiled slightly.

"Miss Wayne, Arkham might seem like an easy way out, but it's not; Arkham is hell on earth."

"That's not why I want to take it," Cynthia said, Dent frowning.

"Did you do it?"

"No, I want to take it because I didn't."

Cynthia took a deep breath; Arkham. She could handle it, she knew she could.

But, Bruce couldn't.

.

"Cynthia, I got you Dent so you wouldn't have to be put away," Jim protested.

"Detective Gordon… Jim, I have my reasons for taking it, but right now I need you to listen to me. I didn't kill Payne, but someone is trying very hard to make it look that way."

"Who?"

"Wayne Enterprises."

Jim frowned.

"Think about it," Cynthia continued "I turn eighteen in a year and a half; if I'm in Arkham, I'll _never_ get the company."

Jim sighed, rubbing his face.

"So, you want to let them win?"

"That's not why I'm telling you this," Cynthia said "I need you to watch over Bruce. With me out of the picture, he's the heir to Wayne Enterprises."

"… I promise," Jim said quietly.

.

"You can't, Cynthia."

Cynthia smiled slightly, putting her hands on her younger brother's shoulders and leaning so they were eye level.

"It's okay, Bruce."

"No, no it's not," Bruce said, beginning to cry "You can't go there, Cynthia; you don't deserve to be there. You didn't do anything wrong, I-."

Cynthia pulled Bruce into a tight hug as he began to cry in earnest.

"Shh, shh, breathe."

"I can't lose you too."

Cynthia shut her eyes tightly; Bruce's words cutting deep.

"You're not going to lose me; Arkham has visiting hours and I'll be out before you know it."

"But, what if something happens to you in there?"

"Nothing is going to happen to me, Bruce, I promise," Cynthia said "I'll stay safe and I'll come home. You just have to promise the same thing."

Bruce gave a tearful nod, Cynthia smiling a melancholy smile.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

.

Once Bruce left, Alfred entered the room.

"Miss Cynthia, I _beseech_ you to reconsider."

"Sorry, Alfred."

Alfred sighed heavily.

"I was supposed to protect you; I failed."

"It's not your fault, the whole worlds against you, Alfred," Cynthia comforted "Protect Bruce; I'll be okay."

"You remember what I've taught you?" Alfred asked.

"I can protect myself, Alfred; you made sure," Cynthia replied.

It was quiet for a moment as they looked at each other, before Cynthia ran forward and hugged Alfred tightly.

"Everything is going to be alright."

.

Cynthia waited in a room outside the court room she would take the plea deal in. She was alone, but there were guards outside the door.

Her attention was suddenly caught by a sound from the window.

"Cat."

Selina hopped inside, landing lightly.

"Hey," She said, seeming like she was forcing herself to be nonchalant "Word is you're going to Arkham."

"Sadly, that one's true."

Selina nodded slowly.

"You must really hate whoever actually did it."

"Circumstances arise and sometimes you have to do something bad; I'm willing to protect people who were only trying to protect themselves."

Selina looked down and swallowed hard.

"Once you're in there, don't make friends. And if anyone tries to hurt you; you go for the eyes."

Cynthia smiled at Selina.

"Thanks, Selina."

Selina went to leave before Cynthia called out after her.

"Selina… Keep an eye on Bruce for me?"

Selina nodded slowly.

"Sure thing, Cynthia."

And then she hopped out the window.

.

"This is not gonna end well for her."

Jim sent his partner a dirty look.

"I'm just being realistic," Harvey said "Sixteen, blonde, and double Ds."

"She's a kid," Jim hissed.

"Yeah, I know, and I'm not saying it's not wrong; I'm just being honest. She won't last a week in Arkham."

"Why would she take the plea deal if she's innocent?" Jim said.

"Because she's protecting someone else."

.

A few miles away from Gotham, a young man was collapsed on the ground.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He's having one of his fits," The middle age man replied, ignoring the screechy laughter that seemed to fill the entirety of Arkham and returning to his paper.

 **CYNTHIA WAYNE TO BE ADMITTED TO ARKHAM ASYLUM.**


	7. Blind Date

"Note to self; once released, donate Arkham some more pants."

Cynthia rolled her eyes after pulling on an issued dress.

"I'm here to take you to your cell, um, Miss Wayne."

Cynthia smirked as a security guard led her to a small cell; her name held meaning even here.

Cynthia noticed as they walked that there was no one else in this part of the building.

"Not a lot of women come through here and when they do… They don't last long."

Wonderful.

Cynthia entered her cell and took a seat on the small cot.

"You're allowed into the common area from 11:00 AM until 3:00 PM. If you don't go, you'll be written off as anti-social and that'll have to be dealt with," The guard warned her.

"You just told me that women don't last long here."

"Best make some friends then, Miss Wayne."

.

He had to admire her style.

Cynthia had entered Arkham with her head held high, not sparing a single glance at the inmates watching her.

He'd heard the others go on about what they were going to do to her once they got their hands on her and Jerome found himself thinking.

Protect her or baptism by fire?

.

Was it really worth it to go out there?

Cynthia supposed that she could tell whatever doctor they paired her up with that she feared for her personal safety, but she got the feeling that they wouldn't care. They might even right it off as paranoia.

 _"Best make some friends then, Miss Wayne."_

Maybe that was her insurance. She knew he was in here. She knew he wanted her.

But, _could_ Jerome keep her safe?

Strength in numbers or be a lone wolf?

.

"She's too young for my taste," Sions said as he uninterestedly flipped through his paper.

"Yeah, meaning she's probably a virgin," Greenwood said with a leering grin at Cynthia Wayne's back.

Jerome gave a soft giggle; in no universe was Cynthia a virgin.

"She's too young for you as well," Sions said disapprovingly, Jerome snorting; Greenwood killed and ate women, did Sions really think he could ever give a damn about Cynthia being underage.

"Who cares?" Greenwood asked.

"People with a sense of pride," Sions said.

As the two began to squabble, Jerome rolled his eyes over the top and sighed. Finally, after a moment of wondering when they'd _ever_ shut up, Jerome hopped out of his seat and moseyed over to where Cynthia was.

Sions and Greenwood shut up to watch him hop into the seat across from her.

"Remember me, Dollface?"

"How could I forget, Jerome?"

Cynthia looked over at the red head who grinned at her.

"Good; would've hated to make a fleeting impression," Jerome said, before moving on "Anyhow, how're you enjoying Casa de Arkham?"

"The worst part of everything is that I didn't even get to kill someone," Cynthia said, Jerome cackling loudly.

"You didn't do it?"

"Nope."

"Then you're definitely going to want what I'm selling," Jerome said gleefully.

"And that would be?" Cynthia asked.

"Protection," Jerome said "I'll make sure not one of these crazies mess with you."

"Selling implies that I'll be paying," Cynthia pointed out.

"Of course I want something in return…" Jerome said, running his fingers over her arm.

Cynthia considered it; no worrying about anyone hurting her and all she had to do was something she'd been planning to do for free.

But, she couldn't help but think of her father.

Not what he would think of her, no, she thought of what ran in his blood. What ran in Bruce's blood. What ran in _hers_.

Fight.

The idea of hiding behind someone while they did all the fighting for her was abhorrent.

She wasn't a submissive person who let other people fight her battles for her in return for sex.

For someone who wasn't a good person, she was filled with righteous anger.

Not towards just Jerome, no, towards everyone that thought she wouldn't be able to survive this. She could survive Arkham without help, she knew she could.

"I'll have to pass."

Jerome recoiled with a slight snarl on his face and even though that look made her a little hot, she pushed it away.

"Because, Jerome, you're fun and all, but I don't need you."

Cynthia grabbed her book and hopped out of her seat before turning towards Jerome and speaking in a lower tone.

"The funny thing is, I probably would've slept with you if you hadn't made it an ultimatum. But, now I do know something for certain; you need me more than I need you. Who knows, maybe I'll still screw you if you admit that."

And with that, she left and returned to her cell.

.

She wondered briefly if Jerome would try to get revenge, but that didn't seem his style. Not when he thought he could leave her to the mercy of the other inmates. Not if he thought he could get her to come crawling back and beg for him.

So, now all she had to do was survive those inmates.

Her cell was the safe zone; no one could come in there since she was in the women's wing, which was actually guarded.

But, to get a good psych evaluation she needed to be in the social room. Plus, she needed to get food.

She had a pretty good system of going to these places and hurrying back when it seemed to start turning against her. But, she hated it. All she did was run.

She needed to figure out a more permanent solution.

.

It was time for her daily "socializing" and she was heading towards the room.

She was in a corridor with no guards, which always gave her the creeps.

"Cynthia."

She turned around and felt her eyes widen.

"Marco?"

It was undoubtedly Marco Gibb; scrawnier and hollowed, but still him.

"I heard you were here; the doctors tried to keep me away."

Cynthia made a mental note to find his doctor and thank them for trying and scold them for failing.

"Um, what happened there?" Cynthia said, tapping her own temples in reference to the bruises on Marco's.

"Oh, those," Marco said, touching them lightly "Electric shock."

"… Last time I saw you, you tried to kill me," Cynthia said.

"And then you made me try to kill myself."

"Sorry."

"I could've forgiven you for that, Cynthia, but I can't forgive you for what you've done to me."

"What've I done?" Cynthia frowned.

" _You're_ the reason I'm here! And even though I know that, I still can't get you out of my head!" Marco said, Cynthia taking a step back as he became violent "What did you do to me, Cynthia? After all this I still love you and it eats me up! I kept thinking that if I saw you again I could finally get some rest, but it doesn't work. Maybe… Maybe if you're dead I can finally be at peace."

If she booked like hell, she could make it to the social room; the inmates that wanted to fuck her wouldn't take too kindly to him trying to kill her.

But… then what? Then they'd know she couldn't protect herself.

So, her decision was made.

"Marco," she started, her voice soft "I'm sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen."

"I know you didn't."

"Maybe I can make things right," Cynthia offered, taking a hesitant step forward.

"How?"

Cynthia shrugged and reached up to cup his cheek softly.

"I don't know, but we can try."

Marco relaxed into her touch.

Before Cynthia's nails clawed into his cheek and she slammed his head into the wall.

Even though Marco's shrieks filled the hallways and floated all the way to the social room, all Cynthia heard was the same mantra over and over in her head.

 _"And if anyone tries to hurt you; you go for the eyes."_

.

Jerome listened idly at the pained shrieks that filled the asylum, the guard at the door not even looking up from his phone. Was it a doctor's "therapy" or did someone test the wrong inmate?

The door swung open as the shrieks started to quiet down and Jerome found himself staring at Cynthia; her hands covered in blood.

She reached into her bra, smearing the blood across her chest, and pulled out a wad of cash. She counted out eighty dollars and put it into the guard's breast pocket and pulling out a cigarette from that same pocket.

"I'd clean up the east hallway if I were you."

She calmly entered the social room, grabbing the lighter out of an inmate's hand and lighting her cigarette, taking a puff of it as she took a seat.

She kicked up her legs on the table and opened a magazine. Without looking up, she took the cigarette out of her mouth and called out.

"Can I help any of you?"

The inmates all looked away and Jerome felt his stomach turn cold.

She'd been right.

He _did_ need her more than she needed him.


	8. Watch The Queen Conquer

1.4 billion dollars and all Cynthia needed was .000001% of that to take over Arkham.

When the news broke to the inmates that Cynthia Wayne had scraped a man's eyes out with her bare hands and _hadn't gotten in trouble_ they all had a very different perception of her.

Sions had been top dog; the other inmates hadn't messed with him because of the inmates that wanted to leech off of him, but Sions would never get his own hands dirty the way Cynthia had; especially not in such a gruesome way.

It was easy to knock Sions off of the throne; she was willing to pay for the guards to keep their mouths shut about an inmate, and she wouldn't charge a thing.

Except, of course, they now owed her.

There was only one subset of inmates that she wouldn't finance; anyone who was in Arkham for sexual violence or any crimes that were motivated by prejudice. More than that, that was usually how she would cash in her favors.

And that was the main difference between her and Sions; it wasn't that she was richer, or that she was a woman. It was because she was _violent_. Sions was disinterested in the other inmates; he didn't care much at all. But, Cynthia, on the other hand, cared very much.

Rapists, racists, sexists; they didn't deserve the ease of Arkham. If the justice system wasn't going to take care of them, then she would. She wouldn't _kill_ them, oh no; she would make their lives a living hell.

Only those who disrespected her were killed.

And that's why she was in charge now.

Either you worked for her or you feared her.

She wasn't the top dog, no, no, no;

She was the Queen of Arkham.

.

"I'm almost hurt you haven't sent one of your attack dogs to murder me."

Cynthia turned to Jerome; waving away the inmates that'd been talking to her.

"And you don't even consider me a threat; ouch."

"I really don't think you'll hurt me," Cynthia said.

"Who knows, Imma wild card, Baby," Jerome said, running his fingers over her waist "Say, have you been banging any of those thickheads?"

"I don't bang subordinates."

"Damn good thing I haven't asked for a favor then, Dollface," Jerome said, pulling her closer.

"Sorry, Baby, but I seem to recall something from our last conversation," Cynthia said, unwinding herself from Jerome, the ginger sighing.

"You really gonna make me say it?" Jerome asked, Cynthia looking at him smugly.

It was quiet for a long moment.

"Ineedyoumorethanyouneedme."

"What was that, Babydoll?" Cynthia asked innocently.

"I. Need. You. More. Than. You. Need. Me."

Cynthia smirked.

"Good boy."

.

It was strange.

Jerome had never wanted anything like he wanted Cynthia.

He was willing to swallow his pride if that meant he could have her.

.

It'd been a few months since Cynthia's incarceration; things were running perfectly.

It was honestly boring.

The only thing that wasn't boring was this.

"Oh, god."

"You know, I always had a suspicion that I'm a god," Jerome said, cackling as he raised his head.

"I don't think a god would be going down on me like this," Cynthia replied breathlessly.

"Then they're missing out," Jerome said, lowering his head again and making Cynthia squeal.

But, they couldn't have sex every hour of every day.

Her main fear was being stuck in Arkham forever; forever feeling this boredom.

"Trust me, Sweetcheeks, I'll get us outta here and we'll rain hell on Gotham," Jerome had promised her one night after sneaking into her cell.

Before, Cynthia would've argued; Gotham was her home.

But, now she saw it; Gotham was hell.

It created the disgusting people that inhabited Arkham; it deserved to burn.

And Cynthia would enjoy it.

.

They sat in the socializing room; Cynthia leaning against Jerome with a few other inmates scattered around her at the table. Cynthia's eyes had been instantly attracted to the familiar blonde woman sat at a table by herself.

Cynthia popped her bubble gum thoughtfully; sending a sneaky look over at Sions, who kept checking Barbara out.

"Babe, do me a favor and go tell her not to sleep with Sions," Cynthia said, looking over at Jerome, who sighed over the top.

"I'll flirt with her," He said "Maybe she won't try to boss me around."

"Go for it; we can have a threesome."

.

"Hey, Gorgeous."

"Go back to your girlfriend, Ginger."

"Just being polite," Jerome growled out with a smile "So, whatchya in for?"

"Killing my parents."

"Oh, me too. Well, mom anyhow. Liberating, right? What a rush!"

When Barbara gave him a look, Jerome sighed.

"Yeah, alrighty then. My girlfriend, as you so eloquently put it, wants to talk to ya."

"Then why doesn't she come over here herself?" Barbara asked.

"Good question; she thinks it's better for her image that someone else does her bidding. Or she might just be lazy, I didn't ask."

"Did you ask what she wanted?"

"Well, I think it has something to do with that old dude over there," Jerome said, with a not so discrete nod at Sions "He's a millionaire. And he's gotta thing for you and is probably going to offer you whatever you want in exchange for some afternoon delight."

"Why does she care?"

"She doesn't like it when people do that. Not. One. Bit."

Barbara smiled slightly.

"Do you know this by trial and error?"

Barbara smirked as Jerome's jaw clenched before he grinned a hateful grin.

"Are you interested or not?"

"Can she get me something?" Barbara asked.

"Anything."

"A phone."

.

"Good talk?"

Barbara looked over at where Cynthia sat with her legs propped up on a table and a magazine in her lap.

"Where's Jerome?"

"Do I look like his mother? He's probably terrorizing one of the loons or something."

"Does this mean I owe you one now?" Barbara asked, taking a seat at the table.

"I'd say this makes us even," Cynthia replied, pulling out a cigarette "Never did give you any gas money."

It was quiet for a moment as Cynthia gave one to Barbara and lit it.

"How come you turned down Jerome's offer but still have sex with him?" Barbara asked, blowing a puff of smoke.

"I don't like it when my vagina is an ultimatum. And I don't like it when people assume that that's the only way I can keep myself safe," Cynthia said "I got Jerome to swallow his pride and admit he was wrong, though, so I can enjoy his dick in peace."

.

"Someone tell me a funny story," Barbara announced one day at lunch, Helzinger painting her toes.

Sions, who Cynthia allowed to hang around so long as he wasn't a fucking creep, spoke up.

"I have a good one."

Sions began to tell his story about polo ponies; could he _be_ any more of a rich dude (And that was coming from _Cynthia_ )?

"Greetings! I am ZARDON! THE SOUL REAPER!"

It was quiet for a moment.

"So, I had these ponies," Sions continued, everyone turning to listen to him again.

Sions went on with his story, Cynthia losing interest; Jerome's hand that was gently stroking her thigh was much more interesting.

"HEAR ME SLAVES!"

Cynthia sighed and looked over at the dude again, on the verge of having Helzinger remove him.

"My patience is growing thin! Surrender your souls to my mercy," He said as he climbed on a table "Or I swear by the Master I shall feast on your pain! I shall gorge on your torment! I shall crush you like a bug."

He began coughing violently, keeling over on the table.

What was more interesting was the blue smoke that admitted from his mouth, everyone standing up in shock and concern.

Before everybody began coughing; passing out.

.

The next thing Cynthia new, she was waking up; tied standing up with six other inmates.

Jerome was to her right and Barbara to her left. Helzinger was there as well and Sions. And Dobkins and Greenwood, making her sneer. A rapist and a woman eater (literally); perfect.

"What the hell is this place?" Greenwood growled.

"It ain't Arkham anyhow," Jerome said with a grin "Things are looking up."

A tall man with slicked back hair and an expensive suit entered the room.

"Hello everyone, my name is Theo Galavan. This is my sister, Tabitha."

Everyone broke out into loud questions, Cynthia rolling her eyes. Theo silenced them quickly, though.

"I understand, you're feeling confused, scared, a little groggy, but please relax. Today is the first day for a wonderful future for all of you. If you want it," Theo said, walking down the line of inmates.

"Who are you?" Barbara asked.

"Well, now, the question is who are you?" Theo countered, Cynthia almost rolling her eyes at that "The world sees criminal lunatics. I see brilliance, I see charisma, and power," Theo came to a stop between Barbara and Cynthia, looking at them both intently "I see power."

"Yes, exactly my man, that is so spooky, that is me to a T," Jerome said, Cynthia rolling her eyes, albeit, a bit indulgently "These other boys, I don't know, but, you're singing my song."

"Quiet, Jerome!" Sions called out, Galavan not missing how Cynthia's jaw tightened slightly "Keep talking."

"Imagine a group of brilliant outlaws, like yourselves, each selected for your unique ability, working together as a team," Galavan said, walking back down the line "Imagine the synergy. Imagine the impact. Gotham would tremble before you."

"Well, that sounds fabulous, but I'm not a brilliant outlaw," Barbara said "I just have… issues."

"You have ferocity," Galavan countered, walking back down the line "And beauty."

 _There it is_ Cynthia thought with a sigh.

"And desire and that's enough," Galavan said, stopping in front of Barbara "Come with me, Barbara; whatever you want in the world; it's yours."

Thankfully, Galavan was too busy staring into Barbara's eyes that he missed Cynthia roll hers; every time.

"Theo!" Sions called out, Cynthia seeing where this bullshit was going "That is your name, isn't it? Theo Galavan. You're getting way ahead of yourself, first of all, keep your hands off her, second this whole magic team, I gotta pass."

Before Theo could counter, Cynthia spoke up.

"That was very nice of you to try to protect Barbara from a situation in which she wouldn't be able to give Galavan consent, Sions," She said sarcastically.

"Shut up, Cynthia."

Cynthia's voice became deathly calm.

"I will scratch your eyes out the same way I did Marco Gibb's; don't you _dare_ tell me to stop talking."

Theo had a fake concerned expression.

"I didn't foresee a power struggle so quickly."

"I'd say it's less of a struggle than it is a reminder to everybody who's in charge," Cynthia said "But, I don't think it'll be a problem; you were saying, Richard?"

"I don't take orders," Sions spat at Cynthia before looking at Galavan "Good luck on everything, though; it's an intriguing concept."

"This is very disappointing," Galavan said "But, I suppose it's for the best seeing how you two can't get along."

Galavan sent a look at one of his guard, who cut Sions loose.

"Tabitha will see you out."

"Miss Kean is coming with me," Sions said, but before Cynthia could give back a biting retort, Galavan spoke.

"Oh, she doesn't want to go where you're going."

Tabitha whipped Sions around the neck, pulling him down before she pulled out a knife. As she carved into Sions, Jerome began to laugh manically and Cynthia spoke under her breath.

"What an idiot."

.

The Maniax.

That was Galavan's choice in name.

It was clever, Cynthia supposed, and it would catch the public's eye.

"I want you four to go out and make a statement, while you two stay here," Galavan said, Cynthia raising an eyebrow "And I promise it has nothing to do with the fact you two are women."

As the four men went to leave, Galavan caught the lingering glance that Cynthia and Jerome shared; interesting.

"Barbara, Tabitha will show you around. I would like a private word with Miss Wayne."

Barbara and Cynthia exchanged a look of slight interest before Barbara was escorted out.

"Cynthia is fine," She said, Galavan smiling.

"Then I must insist on Theo," He said, offering her a seat "What you did back there was impressive."

"Call Sions out on his crap?" Cynthia asked, Galavan laughing slightly.

"You demonstrated your hold over the group; the leadership you possess is remarkable. For someone your age to so easily take over a group of older people is incredible."

"I didn't like the alternatives," Cynthia said simply.

"I would like you to be in charge of the Maniax; you'll be able to keep them in line, but not _too_ in line," Theo said "Make sure they can function long enough to cause some real damage to Gotham."

"I hate to burst your bubble, Theo, but I give them two weeks at most; Jerome's going to start getting annoyed and kill them himself."

"That's all I need. The Maniax are just the first step, Cynthia; and soon I will be in charge of Gotham," Theo said "And I'd like you there with me."

"What do you mean?"

"It won't be hard to clear you of criminal charges; people have been striving to do that from the moment you were incarcerated. Then, I can take you on as my ward; I'm very interested with what you'd do with that much power. Plus, my niece could use a big sister."

 _Big sister._

"But-."

"Bruce could come too, of course," Galavan interrupted "Hell, you wouldn't even have to move out of Wayne Manor."

Cynthia sat back; stunned.

"But, I have to warn you; you'd have to leave every bit of your Arkham past behind you; you wouldn't be able to hold onto that. Not in any capacity."

It was quiet as Cynthia processed everything he'd said.

"I… I have to think about it," She started slowly "But… Yeah. That sounds… amazing."

Galavan smiled widely, clapping his hands together as he stood up.

"Wonderful. Tabitha will be delighted; she didn't see much of you, but she likes what she saw." Cynthia stood and Galavan placed a hand on her back "I'll take you to her and Barbara; you need to get out of that uniform."

Cynthia let Galavan led her through the house; not hearing what he was going on about as she thought about her future.


	9. Bad Girl

As the other Maniax dug through a bunch of old boxes, Cynthia sat off to the side; deep in thought.

 _"You wouldn't be able to hold onto that. Not in any capacity."_

Cynthia could read between the lines; Theo meant Jerome.

Give up Jerome for some semblance of stability; that was a no brainer, right?

Right?

Cynthia was jerked out of her thoughts by the sound of a chainsaw.

Jerome was hitting his chainsaw against Greenwood's samurai sword.

"That's enough!" Galavan called.

"I tried to stop them," Dobkins said, Cynthia rolling her eyes as she slumped more in her chair; interested where this was going.

"Boys, we're a team," Galavan appealed "We don't fight amongst ourselves."

"Yeah, we're a team, _boys_ ," Dobkins repeated.

"And I'm the captain," Greenwood said with a sneer. Cynthia sighed; she didn't want to deal with a pissing match; she had more important things to be doing and thinking about.

"Captain of my foot," Jerome growled back.

"I've murdered a dozen women; terrorized this city. What've you done? Chop up your mommy?"

"Everybody has to start somewhere," Jerome said, obviously annoyed "See, I have vision, and ambition, and brains, and you're just a nutty old cannibal. How many people can you eat until that shtick gets old?"

"I could eat one more."

"I can see we're going to have to resolve this once and for all," Galavan said, pulling a gun out of his pocket and removing all the bullets and putting only one back in "You all know this game?"

"Love it," Jerome replied.

Cynthia watched more attentively; things just got a lot more interesting.

"Who wants to be the boss?" Galavan asked, holding the gun out.

"Ladies first," Jerome said, Greenwood taking it and pulling the trigger next to his temple; nothing. Greenwood passed it to Jerome, who took it happily and placed it against his temple as he spoke.

"Hey, Greenwood; what's the secret to good comedy?" Jerome asked, pulling the trigger; click "Timing."

"And what's courage?" Still nothing "Grace under pressure."

"And who's the boss?"

Cynthia leaned forward in interest.

Click.

"I'm the boss."

Cynthia smiled as she leaned back.

Jerome laughed quietly as he handed Greenwood the gun.

"When you're not too busy eating out of that bitch's hand."

Before Galavan could scold or Jerome could shoot him, Cynthia was across the room; slamming Greenwood's hand onto a table and taking the sword to pin his hand to it. As Greenwood screamed, Cynthia was vaguely aware of Jerome's cackles as she spoke calmly.

"If you call me a bitch again, I will knock out every single one of your teeth with a crowbar and I will make gyūtan with you. I'm sure you don't know what that is, so I will illuminate; it's a Japanese dish made out of grilled beef tongue, but I'm sure it'll work just fine with yours."

Then, Cynthia reached up and calmly pulled the sword out of the table and Greenwood's hand; the man falling backwards and clutching his hand as Cynthia wiped the blade clean on his shoulder. Then, she passed the sword back to a grinning Jerome and turned to Galavan.

"I hope you will accept my apology for your table."

"Of course," Galavan said.

Cynthia smiled pleasantly before leaving the room; Jerome slapping the sword into Galavan's hand and following after her.

.

Cynthia took heavy breaths as Jerome lied across her back; they'd just finished and were still recovering.

Jerome rolled off of her; pulling on his pants as Cynthia rolled onto her side.

"Jerome?"

"Yeah, Doll?"

"Could ya do me a favor?"

"Depends."

"When Galavan brings up your next hit; suggest Cheerleaders."

Jerome grinned.

"You're being such a bad girl."

Cynthia smirked, winking at Jerome.

"Learned from the best."

.

"I heard you're joining the family."

Cynthia turned to where Tabitha was approaching her.

"Yeah."

"Good; we could always use some more bright, ruthless people around here," Tabitha said "Oh, if you're worrying about losing Jerome; don't. I know plenty of more suitable boys you can mess around with."

"You're one to talk about suitable," Cynthia said teasingly "I'm not judging; Barbara's a hottie. Does your brother know you two have been screwing?"

"What he doesn't know won't kill him," Tabitha countered.

"Fair enough."

.

 _"When you're there, before they go boom, can you do something for me?"_

"Cynthia Wayne sends her love," Jerome said, cackling as he sprayed screaming cheerleaders in the face with gasoline "And regrets that she won't be able to see you all go to hell."

.

"It's too bad you weren't able to blow them up," Cynthia said, running her fingers through Jerome's ginger hair as he rested his head on her lap.

"Sorry, Babydoll; maybe next time."

"Cynthia, Jerome; Theo wants you two," Tabitha said.

.

"Sure, the last move on Gotham didn't exactly go according to plan, but Gotham is prepared for our next move," Galavan said "Jerome; you are our star."

Jerome grinned at Galavan's words.

"While, Cynthia is our pièce de résistance."

"Doing what?" Cynthia asked, interested in what her first job as one of the Maniax was.

"How good are you at crying on command?"

.

Jim sighed as he ran a hand through his hair; the Maniax were nowhere to be found.

And, wherever they were, Cynthia was with them.

Even though all evidence pointed to the contrary, Jim still believed that Cynthia was being held against her will; the Maniax had her locked up somewhere.

As Jim considered that Cynthia Wayne was in the hands of those psychotic criminals, his phone rang.

"Gordon."

"Jim."

Jim froze; the voice was familiar, if a little wobbly.

"Cynthia?"

"Jim, I need your help."

"Are you with them right now?" Jim demanded.

"No, I got away, but I need to see you."

"Tell me where you are; I'll take you down to the station and you can tell them everything."

"You think those cops can be _trusted?_ Jim, this is way bigger than you realize; we need to meet somewhere else."

"Where?"

"Follow me."

These words were both over the phone and from across the room; Cynthia was standing in the doorway. Her eyes were wide and scared and she had a large bruise on her cheek.

They made eye contact and Cynthia swiftly turned around and headed out the door; Jim running to follow her.

Cynthia stayed a few feet ahead of him; leading him to an alleyway near the precinct before she turned around.

Her eyebrow was raised and her lips were quirked into a surprise smile.

"I cannot believe that worked."

"Cynthia?" Jim asked, frowning in confusion.

"Oh, god, now I almost feel bad," Cynthia said, her voice implying she did not feel bad at all "You look like a little lost puppy."

"Cynthia, what's going on?" Jim demanded.

"Oh, Detective; I've been such a _bad_ girl."

Helzinger jumped out and tackled Jim, beginning to beat him up.

"Remember, keep him alive," Cynthia said, leaning against the alley and sighing; hardly the most thrilling part of the plan.

Instead of focusing on Helzinger beating Jim into a pulp, her mind began to wander to earlier.

 _"Now, Cynthia; you have to make him believe," Galavan said, Cynthia biting her lip; tears and doe eyes wouldn't be enough._

 _"Jerome," Cynthia called, the ginger man walking over with a grin; he was excited about the part he played "Hit me in the face."_

 _Without question, Jerome punched her on the cheek; Cynthia stumbling to the ground from the force that had hit her. Cynthia shook her head and spat out blood before standing up; smiling at Jerome in gratitude._

Her cheek still kind of hurt, but strangely enough, she kind of liked it.

Helzinger had Jim on the ground; punching him over and over.

"Alright, that's enough."

Helzinger obeyed and moved away from Jim, who was barely conscious.

Cynthia whistled as she moved over to the side of the alley; picking up a pipe before skipping slightly too where Jim was lying.

"Sorry for the killer headache you're going to have. Not so sorry for what happened at the precinct. Night-night!"

Cynthia raised the pipe and everything went black

.

Cynthia drummed her nails against the steering wheel impatiently; she could hear sirens as she waited for Jerome to exit the precinct.

"Well, Missy; who put that bruise on your pretty cheek?"

Cynthia giggled; the sirens forgotten as Jerome leaned against the car and spoke in a funny voice through the open window.

"My despicable boyfriend, Officer; who messed up your nose?"

"All in the line of work. Why don't you leave that boyfriend of yours?"

"I just can't bring myself to; he's so mean, but he gets me so hot."

Jerome broke and grinned, opening the door to the car and shoving Cynthia over to the passenger side; the young girl giggling as she lay on her elbow while Jerome got in and pulled away. Jerome leaned and slapped the side of her thigh.

"Don't worry, Darling; once I get you back home, I'm gonna hurt you some more."


	10. The Magician's Assistant

"There has to be a mistake."

Jim sighed, looking down.

"I'm sorry, but I saw it with my own eyes… You know I want to believe anything else, but…"

Bruce's hands were shaking.

"Something must've happened in Arkham; they must be threatening her… Cynthia wouldn't…"

Jim swallowed hard as Bruce looked down at the ground; he was barely holding in tears.

"Bruce, I'm sorry, I truly am."

"You should've protected her in the first place," Bruce muttered before leaving the room.

Jim sighed as he watched him go, before turning to look at the butler.

"Alfred…"

"I think it's for the best that you leave, Detective."

"Of course, Alfred, but… I need to know Cynthia's friends; I need to question them."

"Carly Westerman was her closest friend; anything you need to know, she'll know."

"Thank you, Alfred."

As Jim left Wayne Manor, he heard something break from upstairs.

.

 _It's your fault Payne died._

Bruce grabbed one of the glass vases and smashed it on the ground.

 _You're the reason she went to Arkham._

Bruce kicked one of the wooden cabinets.

 _It's all your fault!_

Bruce dropped to his knees, beginning to cry.

.

Jim and Harvey sat in the Westerman's living room; Carly was holding her mug of tea tightly while her mother sat to her right.

"Cynthia was always such a nice girl," Her mother said quietly.

"I understand this is painful for the both of you, but I need to know about Cynthia."

"Like what?" Carly asked.

"Did she have any other friends?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, of course, everybody liked her, but I was her closest," Carly replied.

"How about boyfriends?" Harvey asked.

"Um, yeah, she-she had a few," Carly said.

"How many?" Jim asked, Carly biting her lip for a moment before lifting her hands to indicate.

"Seven?" Jim asked, Carly nodding "Do you have names?"

.

"Simon Vang."

"Listen, I haven't spoken to Cynthia since the eighth grade," Simon said, sitting awkwardly in the interrogation room "We dated for a week and then she dumped me."

.

"Nadine Hoffman."

"It lasted two weeks, I'm not even into girls anymore," Nadine said in a small voice.

.

"Casper Moffett."

"Yeah, she was fun," He said with a leering smile "We used to plant cherry bombs together. Her boobs were just a plus."

"How long did your relationship with her last?" Jim asked, Casper scowling.

"A month and then she dropped me."

.

"Lexi Braddock."

"She used to sit in the corner of my bar; people would pay for her drinks _all_ the time," Lexi said admiringly "She once had ten drinks at once."

"You do know she was fourteen at the time of your relationship, right?" Harvey asked.

"I mean, she never actually _drank_ any of them," Lexi said awkwardly "Besides, we only dated for a month and a half; haven't seen her since."

.

"Gwen Vass."

"What did you say your occupation was again?" Jim asked, Gwen rolling her eyes.

"I work at the Penthouse Club."

"Uh huh, how did you meet Cynthia Wayne?"

"I don't know, she needed to use a phone and I let her use the one in the club. Then we dated for about four months."

"Let me take a guess; she broke up with you," Harvey said.

Gwen nodded.

"I thought we were doing so well and then she just…"

"If it's any consolation; you're the longest she's ever dated someone," Jim said.

"… I haven't seen her since then," Gwen said.

.

"Well, that accomplished nothing," Jim muttered.

"But, I think I'm kind of in love with her now," Harvey commented, Jim snorting.

"One more," Jim said "Brice Williamson."

A young man with dark hair sat down, biting his lip nervously.

"How did you meet Cynthia Wayne?"

"Um, I used to deal at the club on 9th; she was dating the bartender at the time. Used to send her drinks."

"When did your relationship become romantic?"

"Once she broke up with the bartender, she stopped coming, so I started dealing outside of that private academy. One day I asked her out."

"Were you selling to her?" Jim asked.

"No, she was there with her friend."

"When did your relationship end?"

"Three weeks after that."

"Have you seen her since then?"

It was quiet for a long moment.

"If I tell you this, I need you to _promise_ I'll be protected," Brice said.

"Of course, any info that leads to the capture of Cynthia can't be held against you in a trial," Jim said.

"Not from the _police_ ," Brice said, Harvey and Jim exchanging looks.

"We'll keep you safe," Jim promised, Brice sighing.

"A few months ago, she called me and said she wanted to come over. I said yes, of course, but when she got there, she just went up to the roof."

"That's all?" Jim asked, frowning.

"She wasn't… alone."

"Who was she with?" Harvey asked.

"Him."

Harvey and Jim turned to see where Brice was pointing.

And looked at the grinning mug shot of Jerome Valeska.

.

They had a different lead now, but the information that was rattling around Jim's head wouldn't go away.

 _They knew each other before_.

Jim knocked on the door of Cicero's house.

"GCPD."

Nothing, Jim knocking again.

"GCPD," He repeated "Mr. Cicero, it's Detective Gordon; we need to speak to you about your son… Mr. Cicero?"

Suddenly, there was a cry from inside the apartment.

"Mr. Cicero?" Jim called, pulling out his gun and kicking the door open.

There was no one in the apartment except for Mr. Cicero; who had a knife through his eye.

Jim entered; the window was wide open.

"Harvey, the window!"

While Jim looked outside, Harvey made the mistake of lifting Cicero's hands; a gas coming out from a canister under it. Harvey fell to his knees, Jim covering his face and pulling Harvey out of the apartment; also beginning to succumb to the gas and having to lean against the wall outside.

Then, whistling began.

"Detective Gordon. Old pal."

 _Jerome_.

"That gas sure packs a wallop, huh?" Jim moved to attack Jerome, the red head easily taking his gun out of his hands and pushing him back "That's cute."

As Jim began to feel the effects of the gas more and more, Jerome spoke.

"Cynthia sends her love."

Jim pushed Jerome against the wall opposite; his hands wrapped around the teenager's throat.

"I'm sensing anger."

"You killed Sarah Essen. Now I'm gonna kill you."

Jerome raised Jim's gun to his head; laughing.

"Don't shoot him," An unknown woman with her mouth covered said, Jerome hitting Jim with a gun.

"How about a little flesh wound?"

"No, no; my dibs."

Then everything went black.

.

"I look like I belong in a Cabaret."

"I like it," Barbara said, before leaving the room.

Cynthia twirled in the pink ensemble; she hadn't put on the hat yet because it was ridiculously huge, but she had everything else on.

"Ah, my lovely assistant."

Cynthia looked over at Jerome who was grinning.

"For one night only," She replied teasingly.

"Of course. Soon, all of Gotham will see me for what I am, and you know what they'll see you as?"

"An insane assistant?" Cynthia guessed, Jerome's brow furrowing but his smile not dropping.

"My _partner_."

"… That is the _nicest_ thing you've ever said to me."

Jerome grinned, pulling Cynthia into a surprisingly sweet embrace.

"You and me, Cynthia; we're gonna be in the _spotlight."_

"… Yeah, Jerome; we are."

.

"It's regrettable."

Cynthia looked up and over at Galavan; Jerome had left to get ready for tonight.

"What is?"

"What has to happen for you to be exonerated."

"Yeah," Cynthia muttered, looking down.

"You're not going to back out on me, are you?" Galavan asked.

"Of course not," Cynthia said, looking up "I know my part."

"Good."

.

"This is a waste of time."

"We had a deal, didn't we Master Bruce? Part of which is you resuming a normal life style."

"That's not the point," Bruce said.

"Master Bruce, staying holed up in the house isn't going to help Cynthia in any way."

Bruce rolled his eyes, Alfred deciding to let it pass.

"There's going to be a magician, that'll cheer you up."

Bruce looked over.

"I hate magicians."

"Remember what I said about being normal?"

.

Bruce really wasn't a fan of magicians.

He didn't find tricks entertaining and the assistants were always women, which wasn't bad within itself, but he couldn't remember ever having seen a woman magician with a man assistant.

Bruce swallowed hard; it'd been Cynthia who'd pointed that out one night after a magic show they're family had gone to when he was six and she was nine. Afterwards, she'd made Bruce be her assistant for a magic show for her parents. He'd hated it.

Bruce looked at the assistants, two women, who're over the top acting as the magician wasn't in the box.

He missed Cynthia.

"For my first act, I'll require a volunteer. Let me see; duck, duck, duck, duck, duck. Goose."

 _Oh, shit._

Bruce didn't condone swearing, but he couldn't help thinking it sometimes.

One of the assistants hopped off the stage and held her hand out to him.

.

 _"Then, Cynthia will go and bring Bruce-."_

 _"Um, no. That should be Barbara. He'll recognize me."_

 _"But-."_

 _"This isn't a Cinderella story; my own baby brother will be able to tell it's me."_

.

The assistant led him up, the other one motioning for him to get into the box, although, she had her face to the ground in a strange bow.

The trick went flawlessly; afterwards the same assistant led him back to Alfred.

"For my next illusion, I'd like to call to the stage, esteemed deputy mayor; Harrison Gain."

He was led on stage while the other assistant revealed the knives.

But, as she did, she jostled the other assistant; her mask falling off.

The assistant soon put it back on, but not before sending a wink in Lee's direction.

The magician lifted one of the knives.

"By the way, nobody here is getting out alive."

He threw the knife right in Gain's chest.

"Ta Da!"

.

Jim was outside the fundraiser when his phone rang.

"Lee, thank god, I've been-."

"Sorry, Jimbo; it's little ole' me."

"Jerome."

"Are you outside? Huh! You _are_ , aren't you? Oh, goody."

"I swear to god, if you've hurt her."

"Breathe, James; I haven't touched a hair on your girlfriend's pretty head. See for yourself. This is live television after all!"

Jim realized he was hearing this from _two_ different places. Jim followed the voice to where one of the news stations was set up. On their screens, Jim could see Leslie was tied to a spinning wheel; Barbara, Jerome, and Cynthia around her.

"You son of a bitch."

"True, but not the point. Let's talk about what I want. Excuse me," Jerome stepped over a body "47 million dollars, a helicopter, obviously, the dry cleaning I left at Mr. Chang's, be careful, the man is a crook. And, I don't know, Cynthia?"

"A pony?" Cynthia said, fluttering her eyelashes.

"A pony! You got ten minutes before I start killing people and remember this is being broadcasted to every home in Gotham, so, you know, don't let people die. Bye!" Jerome continued to laugh into the phone until Jim hung up.

.

"I think that went well."

"Enough! You need to pack up your pathetic little side show and leave."

.

 _"This plan would work much better if Theo could actually act."_

.

"Is that right?" Jerome grinned, partially acting, partially because he outshone Galavan by a mile.

"It may be presumptuous to speak for all the citizens of Gotham. But, we are sick of you! You're a small, vicious man with a pathetic need for attention."

Jerome bowed and Cynthia giggled.

"Enough, for god's sake, enough."

"I'm curious where your leverage is here, Mister….?"

"Theo Galavan."

To the camera. Seriously?

"Well, Theo Galavan; if you don't sit down, I'm going to shoot you in the face," Jerome said pleasantly.

"I know there's some human decency left in you."

Jerome poked his thumb at himself; confused but grinning.

"If you need to take a hostage, take me, but let these people go home to their families. To their children!"

One hit with a hammer and Galavan was down.

Cynthia looked at Jerome with eyes that clearly meant she hoped she'd pleased him.

"Atta girl," Jerome said, stepping over Galavan and pressing a hard kiss to Cynthia's cheek before whispering through his toothy smile "Are you okay? You're acting weird."

"Of course, Jerome," Cynthia said.

"Good," Jerome said, hoisting Cynthia up and shoving the knives to the side to sit her on the table.

"Now, can I have a volunteer to entertain the lady?"

.

"Hold very still… Oh, I can't look! Someone tell me how it turns out!"

Jerome pulled the trigger; a water gun.

The man with the apple on his head wasn't killed.

Barbara and Cynthia both laughed; Lee noticing how Cynthia's seem slightly relieved.

"Damn," Jerome said, grabbing the other gun "Turn around."

Jerome took aim and easily shot the apple off; Cynthia and Barbara applauding.

"Well, clap!" Jerome said to the other hostages, all whom did as he said.

Jerome pushed the man off the stage before almost skipping to lean against the table Cynthia was sat on.

"So, Doll; I'd say tonight's going swimmingly. Is my Babydoll enjoying herself?"

"Of course, Jerome."

"Really? Because those are the only words you've said all night. I'm going to find out what's wrong, Babygirl, and-." Jerome cut off, seeing that the Wayne's butler had awoken and was now staring at them "Kiss me."

Without questioning it, Cynthia cupped Jerome's cheeks and kissed him, the red head smiling as she did.

When they broke away, Jerome grinned, but before he could say anything, whether it was a compliment to Cynthia or a taunt to Alfred, he heard a thump and a sound of pain.

Jerome quickly moved and before Barbara could slam a knife into Lee, he caught her arm.

"Has it been ten minutes?" He asked, taking the knife and walking away "Need me to buy you a watch?"

Barbara punched Lee in the face and Jerome rolled his eyes, no one but Lee noticing that Cynthia winced and looked sick to her stomach.

"Well, I think it's time for this night's first official victim!" Jerome announced "You all know and love poor rich boy, parents murdered in an alley, and my favorite assistant's baby brother. Where is Bruce Wayne?"

Any semblance of happiness or excitement slipped off of Cynthia's face.

"Do you know I'm an orphan too, Bruce? I killed my parents, though." Jerome moved away from the mic "Where are you hiding? Bruce! Where are ya, Buddy?"

"Kill his butler," Barbara said.

One of the armed men pushed Alfred up to the stage.

"Alright, last chance, Bruce, or else it's going to get very butler brainy out here."

Alfred sent Cynthia an imploring look, only to receive one in return.

"Brucie!"

"Ah, I'm bored, shoot the butler."

"Stop!"

Cynthia was frozen with wide, horrified eyes.

Jerome pulled Bruce up on stage, not noticing the exchange between the boy and his butler.

"Let's get this started, huh?" Jerome said, a knife to Bruce's neck "Check behind the curtain."

When the armed thug went to check, though; he was shot by Jim.

The other thugs were taken out by Alfred before both men aimed at Jerome, who had a knife to Bruce's neck and was laughing.

"I don't have a clean shot."

"Stay calm, Bruce."

"Seems we've got ourselves a pickle," Jerome said, before whispering in Bruce's ear "What do you say, Brucie Boy, want to boost our ratings?"

Right before Jerome could stab Bruce, he was interrupted.

"I said enough."

Jerome sighed and turned towards Galavan.

And then there was a knife in Jerome's neck.

Jerome looked at the person who'd stabbed him with wide eyes as he began to fall to the floor.

"Cynthia?"

"I'm sorry."

"I thought we were…"

Cynthia let go of the knife as Jerome died, a grin plastered on his face;

It was pretty funny, after all.


	11. Return To The Charade

**CYNTHIA WAYNE ACQUITTED.**

.

Bruce awkwardly shifted as he looked at his sister's sleeping form. Thankfully, Cynthia blinked awake before he had a chance to make a decision on waking her up.

"What time is it?" She asked; her voice hoarse from sleep.

"Nine."

Cynthia grunted and stretched out in her bed.

"Alfred made tea," Bruce said, putting the mug down on the bedside table "English Breakfast with milk, honey, _and_ sugar."

"Just how I like it," Cynthia said with a smile.

"Alfred is also making eggs and bacon, if you want some," Bruce said "I can bring it up here if you want."

Cynthia smiled even as she furrowed her brow.

"What's up with you?"

"… I want you to be happy."

"Bruce," Cynthia sighed "Please don't blame yourself for what happened."

"But, it's my fault," Bruce countered "I'm the reason you went to Arkham. I'm the reason everything that happened _happened_."

"That was Wayne Enterprises, that was madness, that wasn't you," Cynthia promised "… Bruce, you know if it had been your fault, I wouldn't be letting you off this easily. I can hold grudges."

Bruce smiled slightly; that was true.

.

Bruce sat at a table with Galavan, the two in a high end restaurant in Gotham.

"You like this place?" Galavan asked.

"I've never been here before; to be honest I don't go out much."

"I hope I can change that; there's always some tedious function I can drag you to."

"I just… I wanted this opportunity to thank you for saving my life and for… my sister."

"Saving your life was entirely Cynthia. A remarkable young woman, your sister is," Galavan said, Bruce smiling slightly.

"Yes, she is."

.

Once Bruce returned from his lunch with Galavan and from meeting Silver, he went looking for Cynthia. When he couldn't find her within five minutes, he started to panic; what if she was gone again?

Finally, he checked the forest out behind the house and found Cynthia leaning against a tree, smoking.

"Those are very bad for you."

Cynthia choked; he'd startled her.

"Yeah, but _you're_ gonna kill me," she said once she regained her breath.

"You shouldn't smoke," Bruce reiterated.

"I know; don't start," she warned, putting out her cigarette "Whatdaya want?"

"We got back and I wondered where you were."

"Right, how was your date with Galavan?" Cynthia asked, the Wayne siblings trekking back to the house.

"Good," Bruce said, distracted by his memory of Silver, something Cynthia picked up on.

"Anything interesting happen…?"

"I met Galavan's niece; Silver St. Cloud."

Cynthia's eyebrows raised at Bruce's expression.

"Is she pretty?"

"I didn't notice," Bruce said stiffly; she was and he had.

"So, if _I_ flirted with her, you wouldn't mind?" Cynthia asked, Bruce looking over sharply to find his sister grinning "Teasing."

It was quiet for a moment.

"Cynthia?"

"Yeah?"

"Was the thing about seven boyfriends and girlfriends true?"

"Bruce, do you want the _stories?"_

.

Cynthia watched as Alfred and Bruce sparred; neither of them noticing her presence yet. Alfred was winning, of course; he had more years of experience than Bruce had lived. Alfred knocked Bruce down and Cynthia held her own hands to keep from punching Alfred; she knew they were sparring and Alfred was teaching him, but she couldn't help but feel like he was bullying Bruce. No matter the situation; Bruce was always her little brother.

Bruce looked over from his fallen position.

"You're up," he said.

"You're not," Cynthia replied.

"Ah, Miss Cynthia," Alfred said "I'll fix you some breakfast."

"Thanks," Cynthia said before Alfred smiled and left them "Good session?"

"Fairly," Bruce said, taking a swig from his water bottle.

"Alfred not being _too_ hard on ya?"

"It's nothing I can't handle," Bruce said proudly, Cynthia smiling.

"Didn't say it was."

Bruce took another drink, before he looked over Cynthia.

"Would you like self-defense lessons?" Bruce asked.

"From who? You?" Cynthia asked incredulously "Bruce, I could kick your scrawny ass any day of the week."

Bruce gave her a semi-offended look.

"Alfred has been training me."

"Yeah, but Alfred is never going to teach you the _realistic_ part," Cynthia said "Pay attention to your surroundings; this room is _full_ of things to use. And don't be afraid to use your nails or teeth or to pull their hair."

"Seems in poor form," Bruce said, Cynthia sighing.

"Bruce, if you're ever in a fight, don't try to treat your to opponent gentlemanly conduct; they're trying to _kill_ you. Don't be like in the movies, Bruce; don't let your opponent regain their bearings or retrieve their weapon. That's how people die."

It was quiet for a moment.

"Did you get into fights in Arkham?" Bruce asked suddenly.

"A few."

"Did you win?"

Cynthia winked.

.

"So, you're out."

Cynthia looked up in surprise; she was reading in her father's study when someone had interrupted her.

"For now."

Selina hummed; letting Cynthia know she'd heard.

"And you're clear in the head?" Selina asked.

"As it's gonna get."

Selina snorted and leaned against the desk.

"Bruce said you haven't been around lately, why?" Cynthia asked.

"Oh, your butler made it very clear that I wasn't welcome."

Cynthia frowned.

"Because of Payne?"

"And you."

"I'll talk to him," Cynthia offered.

"Don't bother," Selina said "Not like I would've come here anyway."

"Mhm," Cynthia said, rolling her eyes.

"I'd better get going," Selina said "Just wanted confirmation."

"Alright, see ya around, Cat."

Selina walked over to the window and Cynthia could've sworn she's left.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you because of me."

When Cynthia turned to reply, Selina was gone.

.

"Through some legal language, the majority shares of Wayne Enterprises still belongs to Bruce Wayne."

"Perfect," Galavan said, Tabitha and Barbara smiling "If they'd returned to Cynthia, we would never be able to acquire them."

"That girl's thirst for power is admirable," Tabitha agreed.

"But, futile," Galavan pointed out, before looking at Silver "We just have to make sure Bruce sells."

"He'll be wrapped around my finger before you know it."

"Wonderful," Galavan said, smiling "Soon I'll be Mayor of Gotham and the majority shareholder of Wayne Enterprises. Gotham will be mine."

"What will happen to Cynthia?" Barbara asked.

"Simple; both the Waynes will die."


	12. A Brewing Storm

Four people sat awkwardly in Wayne Manor; Alfred, Bruce, Silver, and Selina.

"How is Cynthia? I was hoping to finally meet her," Silver asked.

"Miss Cynthia is sleeping currently; her medication makes her drowsy," Alfred said.

.

Selina felt tears sting her eyes as she made her way away from Wayne Manor; all her life she'd been called things like Gutter Trash, but for some reason it was hitting especially hard.

Why couldn't Bruce see that Silver wasn't good? Why couldn't he see Silver was using him?

Alfred wouldn't believe her if she told him, so that was out.

For god's sake, was there anybody in this town that hadn't fallen under Silver's stupid spell?

Selina stopped in her tracks.

.

"You're not asleep."

Cynthia looked up in surprise; shutting her book quickly as she looked over at Selina who was sitting on her window ledge.

"I don't take the meds," Cynthia replied.

"Alfred seems to think you do," Selina replied.

"I spent months in Arkham; if I can't hide pills, no one can," Cynthia countered "… What do you want?"

"It's about blondie downstairs."

"Silver?" Cynthia asked "Haven't met her yet."

"Yeah, well, that's why I'm telling you this; no one else would believe me," Selina said uncomfortably.

"What is it?"

"She's not as sweet as she acts," Selina said "She's using Bruce."

It was quiet for a moment, Selina worried that Cynthia wasn't going to believe her.

"I know, Cat."

"Y-You _know?"_ Selina asked, surprised "Than why not do something about it?"

Cynthia sighed.

"Cat… I need a favor."

.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," Silver said with a smile, Cynthia smiling in return "Bruce has talked about you and it's made me very excited to see you."

"What's he been saying?" Cynthia said, sending a look over at Bruce, who was speaking with Galavan.

"Mostly about how you're recovering," Silver said "Your strength is… _remarkable."_

"Thanks," Cynthia said, slightly uncomfortable.

"Silver, Cynthia; time for dinner," Galavan called.

.

Once dinner was finished, Galavan spoke.

"Tabitha, Silver; why don't you two show Cynthia around the house?"

Cynthia went along with the two women, but not without her suspicions.

.

"What're you doing down here?"

Bruce looked up in surprise; Cynthia was in the secret room. It was after their dinner with Galavan and Bruce had needed to think.

"How did you…?"

"Alfred told me," Cynthia said with a shrug, her eyes flashing down to the note in Bruce's hand "That the letter?"

"Yes."

"Can I read it?"

Bruce handed Cynthia the letter from their father, the young woman reading through it.

 _Stick with your sister, Bruce; listen to what she says._

Cynthia's lip twitched at that; even in death, dad left her in charge.

After she finished it, she handed it back to Bruce.

"What's wrong?" She asked "I can tell something's wrong."

"… I need to ask you a question and I need your word you'll be honest with me."

"When have I ever lied to you, Bruce?" Cynthia replied, Bruce nodding.

"I spoke with Mayor Galavan, when you were out of the room."

"Yeah?" Cynthia said, her stomach sinking.

"He wants me to sell my shares in Wayne Enterprises so he can fix the company. Clean up Gotham."

Cynthia was quiet, nibbling on her lower lip and staring at the ground.

This wasn't good.

"And… He says he knows who killed Mom and Dad."

Cynthia raised her head in shock; her wide eyes locking with Bruce's.

"Quid pro quo?" Cynthia asked.

"Yes."

It was quiet for a moment.

"What do I do?"

Cynthia looked up at him in surprise.

"They should be your shares," Bruce pointed out.

"I was never getting those shares back; I knew that going in," Cynthia said.

"Cynthia… I don't know what to do," Bruce said, his voice small.

"Don't sell."

Bruce looked at her in surprise; he didn't expect a definitive answer so quickly.

"Why not?"

"Because you don't even know if Galavan is telling the truth. He might not know and is just using that as a way to extort you."

"But, what if he is. What if he knows?"

"Bruce… Mom and Dad are dead. Finding who killed them won't bring them back." When Bruce was about to protest, Cynthia held her finger up "Let me finish. I'm not saying we shouldn't look for who did it, but you shouldn't sell to Galavan. He claims to want to clean up Gotham, to clean up the company, but he's willing to blackmail you… The only way Gotham can be saved is by a good man, and that's not Galavan."

"Then who?" Bruce asked, obviously frustrated "Who can fix Gotham?"

It was quiet for a moment and Bruce looked at his sister, who was sending him a look.

"… Me?"

Cynthia smiled before shrugging slightly.

"It sure seems like no one else is going to do it."

"But, how?"

"I have _no_ idea," Cynthia replied, wrapping her arms around Bruce's shoulders and leading him back upstairs "But, I'm willing to bet you can figure it out."

.

"I told Galavan I wouldn't sell."

Cynthia looked up at her brother.

"And?"

"He threw the file in the fire," Bruce said quietly.

"Bruce-."

"And then he was arrested."

"… I hate to say I told you so."

"Not funny."

.

"What're you two doing?"

Selina and Bruce looked over in surprise at Cynthia; the former two looking slightly uncomfortable.

"I showed Bruce the file Galavan had on him; the one Silver put together."

Cynthia sighed.

"I'm sorry, Bruce," Cynthia said, knowing that Bruce had some feelings for Silver.

Bruce shook his head slightly.

"We need Silver to tell us who killed our parents."

"What? You think you can just ask and she'll tell you?" Selina asked sarcastically.

"Bruce," Cynthia said, getting her brother's attention "You'll need to outsmart her… I know you can figure out how. I know both of you can."

.

"M. Malone."

Cynthia looked up at her brother.

"That's the name Silver had; M. Malone."

Cynthia took a long, deep breath; Bruce sitting beside her on the couch.

"So… you okay?" Cynthia asked.

Bruce shrugged, Cynthia nodding in understanding.

"We should start looking into Malone. I say we start with Detective Gordon and then-."

"Bruce, I agree with you entirely, but not tonight," Cynthia said.

"I won't be able to think about anything else," Bruce protested.

"Then let's watch a movie or something," Cynthia offered "Let's just… Let's just take a break."

It was quiet for a moment, Bruce looking at his feet.

"What movie?"

Cynthia smiled.

.

They were reading together in the study; not about Malone or their parents, just light reading. Both of the Waynes looked up as they heard footsteps.

"Alfred, is that you? You won't believe what I l-."

Bruce was suddenly pushed back behind Cynthia, who was looking at Galavan with wary eyes.

"The mother hen," Galavan said in amusement "I wouldn't have pegged you for that, Cynthia."

"Did you delude yourself into thinking you had me figured out?" Cynthia shot back, Galavan smiling without humor.

"I've got a better idea than most; you're self-servicing. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but it will be interesting how you handle this next question. I have no need for you, Cynthia; I only need the Son of Wayne. Let me take Bruce and I won't bother you again."

"I thought you had me figured out, Theo; you should know I'm smart. And you know I know you broke the Arkham inmates out and made the Maniax for your own gain. You can't leave me alive."

"You're smarter than that, Cynthia, because I have something on you too. We are at an impasse. Give me Bruce and walk away."

"You're a real idiot, you know that right?" Cynthia asked quietly "Because, if you think for one goddamn _second_ I would let you leave with my brother than you've got a whole nother thing coming."

"Fine, we'll have both children of Wayne tonight."

"What do you want?" Bruce demanded.

"Your lives, of course."


	13. Victorious

"So."

Cynthia and Bruce sat side by side in a cell guarded by Galavan's disciples. Bruce was wearing a white robe while Cynthia had continued wearing her clothes; she wasn't a part of the ritual. Galavan just wanted to kill her.

It had been mostly quiet until Cynthia's voice had cut through the silence.

"… You said Galavan broke the Maniax out." Bruce's question clear in his voice.

"Yeah," Cynthia replied.

"And everything at the benefit was staged?"

"Yep."

"… Did you actually kill Jerome?"

Cynthia looked over at her brother; her expression overflowing with pain.

Cynthia looked away; leaning her elbows on her knees and staring at the ground.

"… He was a bad person, Cynthia," Bruce said "He killed people."

"But, I loved him."

It was silent as the truth hung heavy in the air.

"In Arkham?"

"Before."

It was quiet except for their breaths; Cynthia sniffling slightly.

Instead of saying anything, Bruce scoot closer to Cynthia, allowing his sister to lean her head on his shoulder.

.

Alfred felt sick.

Cynthia and Bruce were missing.

And, when he went looking for them at Galavan's tower, well…

Things didn't go so well.

Where were they?

.

Silver St. Cloud was a victim, Cynthia understood that now.

Not that Cynthia had forgiven her, no, Cynthia was still _pissed._ But, she understood.

Silver was trapped.

And Cynthia couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for her baby brother when he expressed his sympathy for Silver.

.

"I'm going to see my parents."

Cynthia winced.

"Silver, could I speak to my brother for a moment?"

Silver nodded and moved off to the side of the cell, giving the siblings a moment.

Bruce looked over at Cynthia expectantly.

"… We're not going to die tonight."

Bruce frowned.

"But, Cynthia-."

"I know how this seems, but, Bruce; I promise you we won't die tonight."

Bruce looked disbelieving for a moment.

But then, he smiled slightly.

"Okay, I trust you," Bruce said "What do I do?"

"Nothing."

Galavan approached the cell, Cynthia giving him an evil look.

"Showtime."

Bruce and Cynthia stood.

"One moment, please," Bruce said before turning to Silver "Goodbye, Silver; I love you and I forgive you."

Bruce kissed Silver quickly, Cynthia smiling slightly.

And then the two Waynes headed to their fate.

.

"Death to the son of Gotham, death to the son of Gotham, death to the son of Gotham, death to the son of Gotham."

"You all went the full nine yards of crazy," Cynthia said as Galavan tied her and Bruce back to back on a pole.

"Prepare yourself, boy," the main cult member said.

"You're a deluded, old fool. And you'll pay for this," Bruce spat, Cynthia smiling proudly.

"Ancestors, be our witness! The prophecy is fulfilled!"

He raised the knife and Cynthia felt her stomach clench; had she been wrong?

"Stop!" Silver called, distracting the man "Please?"

Then their rescuers burst in; Alfred, Gordon, Cat, Penguin and his goons.

"How did you know?" Bruce asked Cynthia.

"I didn't."

But, the thing is…

Monks who'd trained their whole lives to kick some ass.

Which led to the subsequent ass kicking of their saviors.

Once the monks got them down, Galavan laughed.

"Did you seriously think that you could defeat them?" Galavan asked Gordon "You know what happened when you went toe-to-toe with me; what did you expect?"

"Wow, guys; stunning rescue," Cynthia said, her voice filled with heavy sarcasm

"Truly remarkable," Bruce added, Cynthia smiling slightly; Bruce's sass was rare, but amazing.

"You will all be witnesses to the cleansing of Gotham," Galavan said, the monks returning to their formation except for those restraining the others "Soon, the wrongs against the Dumas will be righted."

"I don't understand," Bruce said.

"His ancestor tried to rape our ancestor so our ancestors ran his ancestors out of town," Cynthia said "And they were all a bunch of babies about it for, like, centuries."

"I will not relish spilling Bruce's blood, but I will enjoy watching you bleed out," Galavan said, getting close to Cynthia "You act like a queen, but you're nothing more than a whore; desperate for power. Desperate enough to kill the only person who could tolerate your presence."

Then Galavan took a few steps back and turned to the hostages.

"Did she not tell any of you? About how she attracts the unhinged and then drops them once she's bored. About how she made a schoolboy love her and then drove him insane. About how she found him again in Arkham Asylum and clawed his eyes out with her bare hands. How she made an Arkham inmate trust her and then betrayed him." Galavan turned back to Cynthia, who was looking at her feet "How she made him love her before throwing it all away for her own gain. How she is just like her whore of an ancestor."

It was quiet for a moment.

The hostages were reeling with the new information while Cynthia continued to stare at her feet; Bruce gently taking her hand as best he could.

"Right or left?"

Galavan frowned at Cynthia's quiet words.

"What?"

Cynthia raised her head.

"Right or left?"

"I don't have time for your silly ga-."

"This isn't a silly game; this is me being nice; right or left?"

Galavan rolled his eyes and went over to Bruce's side of the pole.

"Hey, Bruce, wanna hear something funny?" Cynthia called, smiling as she leaned her head back slightly.

"What, Cynthia?" Bruce asked, hoping to help stall.

"Theo is _just_ like his ancestors, you know why?" Cynthia asked, smiling happily.

"Why?" Bruce asked.

"He's such an _idiot."_

"What makes you think that?" Bruce asked, watching the leader of the cult warily "Besides the obvious."

"I mean, he misses such _noticeable_ things, like, blood capsules are one thing but, _seriously,_ how is he-?"

Galavan suddenly turned over to Cynthia's side.

"What blood capsules?"

"Oh, you know, the blood capsules, I mean, those are small, I understand. But, how on earth are you missing it? I mean, it's pretty obvious where it is and-."

Cynthia cut off as Galavan grabbed her throat.

"What am I missing?" He hissed.

"The explosives."

The explosion went off and a majority of the monks fell in the hole made in the ground by it; Silver and Tabitha managing to get to the safe side of the room. Before Cynthia and Bruce could be pulled into the opening, Cat managed to get free and cut them loose; Cynthia pulling Bruce to safety. The distraction the explosion made let Gordon and the rest get away and knock out their captors.

.

Galavan had nearly fallen into the opening; crawling away from it while hissing. A piece of debris had cut his leg pretty bad.

But, he was stopped by someone standing in front of him.

"So, Theodore, how high is your pain tolerance?"

.

The group ran down the stairwell, desperate to get out in case the building collapsed.

But, they all stopped when they heard it.

A loud, unnerving, _familiar_ laugh.

Cynthia smiled excitedly before turning to her brother.

"Bruce, go with Alfred."

"But-."

"I'll see you soon," she promised.

And then she was up the stairs.

.

Cynthia headed up the stairs to Galavan's office, knowing what she'd find there.

She threw the door open and smiled widely.

" _Jerome."_

The red headed maniac turned to her, his grin growing impossibly wider.

" _Cynthia."_

Neither of them paid any heed to Galavan as they kissed each other hungrily; the dark haired man tied to a chair rolling his eyes. They only broke away when he scoffed slightly.

"So, Dollface, what are we going to do with him?" Jerome asked, Cynthia giggling in happiness.

"Can I?"

Jerome gave her the Wayne knife with an indulgent look in his eye, then, Cynthia moved to where Galavan was giving her an unimpressed look. Jerome moved around to the back of the chair and placed a knife to Galavan's throat before freeing his hands; slapping them down on the table.

"So, which was it?" Cynthia asked, gesturing down at his hands.

"Right or left?"

.

They hadn't been able to see each other in months; Galavan's people had been watching Cynthia too closely for her to see Jerome after his 'death.'

But now, they laughed happily as they ran through the dark streets of Gotham.

"Oh, Babydoll," Jerome said, twirling Cynthia before pulling her close "I've missed ya."

"Your groupies don't compare?"

"Not even close."

Jerome had been staying at an underground club where they worshiped him.

"I've been receiving some lovely death threats from them," Cynthia said, Jerome grinning.

"Needed to keep up appearances, Pumpkin; did you get mine?"

Cynthia smirked.

"I had a wonderful night when I received that one."

Jerome grinned; his had been explicit.

"Let's go to the club; I need ya, Doll," Jerome said, pushing her against a brick wall "I've been lonely."

"No willing fans let you fuck them?" Cynthia asked.

"Loads were willing; didn't touch 'em."

Cynthia sighed in pleasure as Jerome bit her neck.

"You haven't screwed around with any rich boys, have ya?" Jerome asked.

"No," Cynthia said, Jerome grinning.

"Good; they'd have to die if you did."

"Jerome?" Cynthia said, Jerome pulling back to look her in the eye "You really didn't sleep with anyone else?"

"'Course not, Cyn," Jerome said, surprisingly sincere.

"Why not?" Cynthia asked, Jerome growing uncomfortable.

"You know why not."

It was quiet for a moment, Cynthia looking expectant.

"You're really gonna make me say it, huh?" Jerome asked.

"Yes."

Jerome looked away for a second before looking back at Cynthia.

"I love you, Cynthia."

Cynthia grinned widely.

"I love you too."

"Yeah?" Jerome asked, Cynthia softening.

He was scared.

She supposed it made sense; not like anyone had really loved him before.

She cupped his cheeks and looked him dead in the eye.

"I love you, Jerome."

Jerome's smile suddenly spread across his face; larger than any smile Cynthia had ever seen him smile.

"Let's head to the club, Sugar."

Jerome wrapped his arms around her tightly and started leading her to where he knew they could go undisturbed for a little while.

"Wait until you meet Jeri; I want you to do your makeup like hers."

"One condition," Cynthia said, grinning.

"What?"

"You do it too."

Jerome laughed, Cynthia giggling.

"I'm not kidding."

"I know you're not; I can tell when you're being a kidder."

"Hey, you're a clown just as much as I am," Cynthia said, Jerome grinning.

"We're both Jokers, Darling."


End file.
